


Reach

by AwkwardAnna, iArgent



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, Inhuman mermaids, Jean being a bro, Language Barrier, M/M, Mer!Isabella, Mer!Yuri, Merchant vessel out of Barcelona, Near Drowning that is AVERTED, Sailor Jean, Sailor Otabek, Textile Merchant Yakov, Thumbs up are affectionate communication, Yuri being impulsive, like three words of Spanish tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardAnna/pseuds/AwkwardAnna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iArgent/pseuds/iArgent
Summary: When Otabek decided to seek work in Barcelona, favoring a warmer climate, he'd not expected this.  He didn't expect to be called off a ship by a pretty Mer. He didn't expect to make friends. And he certainly didn't expect to teach the pretty Mer that almost killed him how to make a "thumbs up" gesture. And yet here he is.





	Reach

**Author's Note:**

> This is a submission for the Otayuri Reverse Bang 2017.
> 
> Beautiful art done by the ever talented AwkwardAnna/Indecisive-Taco.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s845.photobucket.com/user/dragons_chaotica/media/artinspawkannaedit_1.png.html)

 

**_ **Beautiful Art By AwkwardAnna/Indecisive-Taco** _ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the age of twenty-three, Otabek Altin had seen more countries than he’d ever truly planned. He’d sailed from the British Isles to the New World, and returned, a little malnourished, but none the worse for wear. He’d sailed from Calais to Nuuk, though had regrettably needed to turn back from his anticipated destination of Iceland when the winds became unfavorable.

Hailing from Almaty, Kazakhstan he’d never expected to spend so much of his life sailing. And he was a little displeased at how cold the wind was over the ocean, when Almaty ran so warm. Still, he had come to love it. He’d worked in most types of port, even helped cook on a liner for the upper class at one point, but the adventure was losing its charm.

He couldn’t return to Almaty, though. Having fallen irrevocably for the sound of a sail snapping in the wind and the gulls and other birds crying overhead. The early days blinded by the sun, and shivering, salt soaked skin being warmed as it rose higher.  No. Otabek loved the feeling of wood rocking beneath his feet and his hair perpetually tangled, he simply couldn’t leave it behind. He would also happily take a slightly warmer approach than Britain.

Which is exactly how he found himself in Barcelona. A foreigner who spoke very little in the way of Spanish, speaking in English, to a Russian. Yakov seemed a stern man, smaller than Otabek, but wider. He’d made his fortune shuttling textiles by sea down the Mediterranean. He also had a stunning habit of hiring odds and ends, foreigners, cripples who could work a ship, women on occasion, which tended to keep his crew small. This was the company Otabek wanted. He could make a living in Barcelona on the merchant vessel, still communicate if he wanted with his crewmates, and have other outsiders around.

As they talked others walked by carrying barrels, likely water and wine for the next trip. Long, nicely sealed wooden crates, likely textiles, and a few crates of various food items. It didn’t take long to sail between Barcelona and Civitavecchia, Italy. Generally a week there, and back, and that included the shore leave at the end of each trip. If his information was correct the ships ran two weeks per month, occasionally longer if Yakov’s Al Mahmudiyah contact had some new product and they needed to stop off Egypt rather than Italy.

Lilia, Yakov’s wife, was a regular sight on board even if she didn’t sail. She was a shrewd businesswoman, but worked as a dance teacher in the city. She certainly had the voice for it if Otabek’s limited experience with her was to be believed.

“So you want on board the Pirit.” Yakov asked, a steaming cup of coffee between stubby fingers. “Why?”

Otabek kept his hands firmly on his thighs, sitting across from the man at a small table in the Port. The term ‘table’ was stretching it, they sat on boxes and a larger empty barrel served as the table. No need for anything fancy this close to the water.

“I’m an experienced sailor.” He said slowly, “I’m seeking work, and thought the Pirit would be a good match. I’m not used to the culture here.”

Yakov raised an eyebrow “Quick and to the point. Can you read?”

“Well enough.”

“And what’s well enough?”

Otabek looked up as a gull started it’s morning racket. A late sleeper. “I read a fair bit of English. No Spanish or Russian.”

“Know your numbers?”

“Yes.”

“Ever stolen, been convicted of anything unsavory? I don’t want that by my crew.”

“No, Sir. “

Yakov stared at him for a few moments. “Easily distracted?”

Otabek furrowed his brow. “I daydream. But not to detriment. Get lost in my surroundings I suppose.”

“Not stupid enough to jump off without telling a crew member first though?”

He’d seen that. The sudden urge in nice water to be off the ship. Made worse if the crewmate could swim. He’d like to learn.

“I’m not a strong swimmer. It would be best to tell them.”

Yakov nodded slowly. “Jean is going to teach you how to swim. You’ll be dropped in Palma for a week. Coming out of your first pay. But lodgings and food are included, so you’ll not miss it if you don’t have savings.”

Otabek somehow managed to straighten his spine even more sitting across from the Captain. “You’re hiring me?”

“You seem solid enough, boy. We’ll get you trained up. Be nice to the others. Bunk is over there.” The older man said, gesturing broadly at what looked like a mid-sized house across the way. “Easier to keep you all by the Port if there’s something to do. Smells terrible, but there’s clean water for bathing and drinking, and all the sea air you could want.” Yakov looked once over the man in front of him. “I don’t care about your relationships, you can handle that with your housemates, come to me if anything is the matter. And I expect you all to bathe at least twice a week. I’ll not have you salting through clothes or blighting my ship with some nasty disease, or the hold with lice. Rats are bad enough.”

“Yessir.”

“You’ve got about four days to settle in, then you’re on the next ship. There’s smaller lodging on Palma. After that you’ll be staying with the Crispino Company at our stop in Italy. Sara and Michele run that branch, they’ll treat you all right. Now git.”

Blinking at the abrupt dismissal Otabek grabbed his bag and stood, hesitating for a moment until Yakov fixed him with a glance that said ‘ _ _Well? Off you go__ ’ quite clearly. He took off steadily for the house wondering just how small the crew was that they could all fit in one house comfortably. The port was salty, damp as it were, but also almost impossibly dry out of the wind. By the time he knocked on the door he could feel the sheen of salt on his hand and his tongue drying out. His meeting with Yakov took place just after he’d crawled off the boat from Amsterdam, and he’d slept in the Marina. He was thirsty and grimy and the salt from the hold rubbed his skin and clothes uncomfortably, he’d have to get new ones with his savings, this fabric was not meant for seafaring.

When the door opened he came face to face with a tanned red headed woman. She seemed surprised to see him. “ _ _Perdido__?” She asked in what he assumed was heavily accented Spanish.

“Ah, I was just hired, Mr. Yakov said to come here.” He relayed stiffly.

The woman’s eyes widened and she opened the door to wave him in. Yelling something in what he was pretty sure was Russian, and was equally sure was lost in the wind and the bustling noises of Port.

She made a tsk’ing noise as she pinched one of his sleeves. “Welcome, then. My name is Mila!” she said as she finished her inspection, a grin spreading her lips.

“Otabek.”

“Oh! The quiet type I see. We’ll see how long that lasts.” She giggled, tugging his bag from his shoulder. “I’ll show you to your bunk. You’ve probably noticed the house isn’t very big. So we all share rooms. There’s two bedrooms, two bathrooms, the kitchen, dining, and common.”

“So a woman’s room and a men’s?”

Mila stopped to look at him oddly. “Not many women want to work a merchant ship. So It’s just me. Well, Sara stays sometimes, but we share. You’re in the room across from mine. Don’t worry, between all of us the house at least smells good.”

Intrigued, Otabek followed the redhead down the hall as she stopped in front of a door and jiggled the knob until it swung open.

“Mila! I was changing!” A high male voice cried out.

The woman scoffed “No need to worry Guang, you’re cute with or without pants. I brought your new roommate.”

“And it couldn’t wait?!”

Mila was still rolling her eyes when she turned back and impatiently gestured to Otabek, who bit down his protests and approached.

The room wasn’t bad at all. White walls with some wall decorations, a few dressers, two mirrors and triple bunked beds, two of them. The room was a bit cramped as the beds could likely comfortably fit two people each and the room wasn’t huge to begin with. But it seemed homey. A young man with brown hair was tugging at his pant laces as he approached.

“Hi there!” The man greeted, raising a hand and waving a bit awkwardly. “I’m Guang-Hong. One of your roommates here. The middle bunk on that one is yours. Might wanna change and bathe first though or you’ll skin yourself with all that salt.”

“Otabek.” He responded, then gave a sharp nod. A bath sounded great.

Mila nodded. “Grab a change and I’ll start the heat in the bath and pump it full. A welcome gift!” and she bolted back out into the hallway, Otabek heard another door open and close, then silence.

“Yeah she’s a bit intense.” Guang-Hong said apologetically “But she means well! And she’s a great navigator too. If there’s stars she can find anything.”

“Thanks.” Otabek nodded “Who else sleeps here?”

Guang-Hong reached down to grab the shirt he’d evidently just changed out of. “Yeah sure.” He pointed to the one set of beds, “I’m on the top. Phichit in the middle, and Christophe on the bottom. Don’t tell him I said it like that or he’ll be insufferable. Then over there is Jean on top, you in the middle, and Leo. He’s one of the only ones who speaks Spanish, so if you need to go shopping take him.” He grinned sheepishly. “It’s crowded, but we all get along, or we have places to escape before we get cabin fever.” He rubbed the back of his neck, flushing a little. “Er, across the hall is Mila, Georgi, Seung-Gil, Emil, and the two spare beds. Usually for Sara and Mickey, only Seung-Gil usually shares with Phichit, Sara and Mila share, and Emil ends up crawling in with Mickey.” He rambled.

Otabek blinked and nodded. “Anything I should know?”

“Oh, clothes in the hamper, we take turns doing laundry, and cooking, but you can trade or bribe people if you need too. Jean’s in love with a mermaid, and we keep your sheets clean if you’re on duty.”

“What?” Otabek asked, truly thrown for the first time since arriving.

“We keep your sheets clean?”

“No. The mermaid?”

“Ah! My darling Isabella?” A new voice crowed as a muscular man nudged into the room. “Hey new guy. Name’s Jean-Jaques. Call me Jean.” He looked over to Guang-Hong as he tossed his bag onto his bed. “What’s this about my dear Isabella?”

Guang-Hong shrugged, looking a bit lost at Otabek. “This is Otabek. He doesn’t know about the mermaids on the route. I was trying to kinda, tell him. But I chickened out and slipped it in.” He sighed looking at the ground. “Sorry.”

Jean reached out and ruffled his hair. “You just leave it to me.” He turned to Otabek. “You’re taking a bath? I’ll sit in and explain.”

“Ah, I-“

“Don’t argue.”

Otabek clicked his teeth together as he closed his mouth. It’s not like he hadn’t bathed with people before. Hearing a story about mermaids in the bath might be relaxing, if weird.

Which is how he found himself scrubbing salt off his skin with a rough cloth as Jean lounged against a wall. Obligingly handing him soap and brushes if asked.

“Mermaids?”  Otabek finally asked, scrubbing at his knees, which were rubbed mostly raw by the ill-fitting breeches he’d worn.

“Yeah. Nobody ever believes me until they see them. There’s a pod that lives in the sea on our way to Italy. Usually pretty shy, but they don’t seem to mind playing by our ship. Their leader doesn’t seem to mind us hanging out.”

“How can you tell which one’s the leader?” Otabek had heard of the creatures, but he’d never seen one. It was one aspect of sailing he’d always regretted not witnessing.  It also explained why Yakov wanted him to know how to swim, and why he’d asked if he was easily distracted. The more stirred up mermaids were the more threatening they became. He’d laid awake many nights listening to fellow sailors or travelers telling tales about the beautiful creatures. How they were so beautiful men and women walked off ships, how their song made you forget everything, and how their long graceful limbs could turn the water and their prey into a frothy red mess.

“He’s the one that watches the others. Yakov calls him Viktor and it caught on.  He took a mate a few years ago. So they’re running the pod together now.”

“Yakov named him?”

“Well, yeah. They aren’t capable of language. Just noises. So if we have a name for any of them we just go with it. So their Alpha is Viktor, his mate is Yuuri, named by a little guy we had a year or so ago. Ken…Something. Leo named Isabella, said she looked like a beauty. Then there’s her brother, we’re guessing. Viktor and he seem close though, so Yakov said to call him Yuri. We didn’t have the heart to tell him there already was a Yuuri. So, we have two.”

“And you and Isabella…”

“We swim together. She likes me, I like her. It figured, because in case you haven’t noticed, I’m impressive. My Queen of the Sea is the only girl who can handle me.”

Otabek raised his eyebrows before dunking his head, scrubbing at his scalp to dislodge more salt.

“I ran into Yakov on the way here. He said I’d be teaching you how to swim anyway. So you can see how lucky I am.”

 

Three days later found Otabek, and all of the others, barring Seung-Gil, on the Pirit. And on the second day, as they approached the island Jean and he were to stay on, Otabek leaned he was far more easily distracted then he thought.

Phichit had nudged him awake and his first thought was how nice it sounded. An airy hum filling the cabin.

“C’mon. Isabella was happy to see our ship. She waits every two weeks, so she’s singing a song for us.”

Otabek shrugged into his shirt and followed the man on to the deck. There was a cluster of rocks off to one side, on one of the flatter rocks sat arguably the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Blinking his eyes he noticed she wasn’t a woman at all, her blazing red tail trailing into the water, mouth open and unmoving as her throat flexed with her airy song. Outside it was like a cacophony of music. The mermaid’s song as dynamic as he’d heard stories of. An opera singer, chimes, the underlying hum of whale song. He found himself taking a few steps closer to the side of the Pirit to see better. As he watched another Mer hoisted itself out of the water to sit next to the female.

The new Mer’s appearance threw him for a loop. But after a few moments looking, he noted the long graceful limbs and flat chest, while delicate, were masculine. The creatures angular face looked up, silky hair, dark in the water was clearly blonde, and trailed around his shoulders to rest with his sea green tail on the rock. For a moment he thought the creature was looking at him, before his mouth opened as well and a soft crooning trill echoed across the water.

And then Otabek was under water.

He could hear his shipmates like they were speaking from miles away. “He called him in he called him in!” “Phichit, he can’t swim!” “Mios Dio! Is he aggressive?? Can we get in and get Otabek!?” “Otabek, Otabek!” “He’s in the water!” “Oh, I can’t look!” “Someone break a broom and drop a lifeboat, maybe I can poke him away.”

As he sank lower the sound got quieter. Until nothing but the hollow thrum of voices carried. But Otabek didn’t mind. That trill still echoing in his ears, bringing a smile to his face.

He felt something grab him and lazily looked to his side, a stream of bubbles leaving his mouth as he lost the last bit of oxygen he’d carried down. A blur, and a quick view of the startled Mer who’d called him off the ship saw them breaking the surface. Otabek heard a soft clicking in his ear. Almost calming, but he could clearly see the Mer who’d called him several feet away. Delicate at first glance, but with his senses heightened after near drowning he could take in the sharp eyes, like a soldier from battle, or a captain sailing into a hurricane. His long graceful fingers tipped in curved claws, they were flexed now as he bared his teeth and clicked uncertainly at a larger male with long silver hair. His teeth were pointed. He should have expected that.

The clicking in his ear was followed by a soft shake. And he turned, unsure of what to expect. But right next to his face was another Mer. This close he could see features he couldn’t far away. Their faces were angular, noses slightly flat in the bridge, ears pointed. And a second eyelid. The one holding him now had black hair and dark eyes. But he seemed quite inviting. As water dripped into his eyes the strange eyelid flickered across ensuring his sight was clear. “Uh. Thank you.” His voice sounded far away and dazed even to himself. With a sudden heavy splash the one holding him flinched and hissed deeply, but didn’t let go. Otabek could feel scales swaying against his ankles.

“Otabek. Otabek!” Jean yelled from right next to him, clothing soaked to his skin and eyes frantic as he reached out.

The Mer holding him seemed to feel they were sufficiently friendly enough and began to gently tow his new friends to the rope ladder Mila had tossed down.

“Yuuri! Holy Hells, Yuuri! Thank you!” Phichit called from on deck looking frantic.

The Mer holding him crooned a happy noise that carried upwards, making Otabek’s head go soft, and limbs warm, but not making him do anything impulsive.

“I brought you a snack from the city. I’ll get it!” And Phichit ran off.

The little blonde Mer that had called him off the ship bobbed up right next to him, making him flinch. He leaned in hissing lowly, then gently rested his head on the new human’s shoulder for a moment before flipping off.

“Looks like he wasn’t trying to hurt you.” Jean explained. “It’s a great thing the water is so clear here, we saw everything. He called, you went in, and when you didn’t come up he launched himself after you.” He pulled him onto the deck. “He was just about on you when Yuuri bolted from under the ship, hit you in the back and propelled you up. Looks like Viktor gave the little guy a talking to.”

“Sorry for the trouble.” He mumbled, head still fuzzy. “Where’s Isabella?”

  Jean grinned “She raised an unholy racket when you fell in. It’s probably what brought Viktor and Yuuri. Don’t worry, you can thank m’lady later. For now we’re almost at port and you need rest.”

The next morning, his head much clearer and they were newly on their own. Jean packed a bag and they set off on a trek across the island.

“There’s a little grotto out here. Private, good place to learn. Also, seems to be one of our pod’s home bases. That okay?”

Otabek thought of startled green eyes and a clawed hand reaching for him as he sank in the water. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

Once there they stripped down to bathing clothes and Jean led him to a place he could still touch the ground, but be submerged up to his chest. “Why don’t we start with treading water?”

A gentle splash and a delighted chirp sounded behind him causing him to freeze. Jean looked puzzled for a moment then looked down. A sea green tail was twisting softly underwater keeping the smallest of the pod afloat. Jean watched startled as a long pale arm draped over his friend’s chest and a delicate clawed hand found purchase on the opposite shoulder as the Mer draped himself over Otabek to chirp in his ear again.

“It’s your new friend from yesterday. Blonde Yuri.” Jean explained at the gradually growing expression of panic on Otabek’s face. “He probably has a crush on you.”

“Oh.”

“He’s cute when he isn’t making you swan dive to your death.”

“Oh. I-“

An angular face gently bumped into his head.

“Hi.”

The Mer chirped brightly.

After a few long moments of silence the Mer began to look agitated. Convulsively squeezing and releasing Otabek’s shoulder, claws prickling uncomfortably.

“Happy to have you, gorgeous, but I’m trying to teach our boy how to swim.” Jean interjected, taking a slow step forward, water rippling with his movement.

The Mer, Yuri, pulled delicate lips back over sharp teeth and hissed, long and low. Otabek  only noticed the expression because the Mer’s face was directly next to his. He felt the arm draped over him tense, shifting him when he realized he’d completely underestimated the strength in the slender limb. Yuri shifted, using Otabek to rise a bit higher, and Otabek was struck by how heavy the creature was. The soft, weirdly slippery skin of the Mer’s chest brushed his back, and the flukes of the long fin were tickling his feet, even as the scales chafed his legs.

With another little splash, a dark head of hair popped up by Jean. Eyes narrowed and teeth just barely visible, Isabella hissed lightly at the male using Otabek as a crows nest.  In return the male’s hiss became a lower, guttural, growl that didn’t seem to suit his slight figure. But Isabella reached the same tone easily. Then, without warning, the two were back underwater, and then pulling themselves onto a rocky perch to watch their humans.

“He does not seem to like me. At all.”

“He might like me enough for both of us.”

Jean snorted “True enough. But let’s get you swimming so you don’t die next time your sweetheart takes you on a date.”

It took hours to get the basics down. But Otabek was treading water easily enough that when Jean towed him out deeper he was able to enjoy Yuri darting around his legs. The Mer had even popped up next to him and joined him floating in space. Just enjoying being near. Otabek had to admit, it was pretty cute. However, if he stared for too long Yuri’s face blushed, red in a very human way, then he would growl and splash off to sulk on his own. If Isabella was taking a swim break he occasionally joined her, the two tussling and racing under the water, or sitting on the rocks.

He wouldn’t come near if Jean was close though. And if he did, it was to wrap himself around Otabek so Jean couldn’t get at him. Unfortunately this usually led to Otabek sinking like a stone, and being fished out by Isabella and Yuri while Jean looked on, vaguely irritated.

Swimming, or whatever rough approximation Otabek had learned, with Yuri was fun though. The slight Mer swam faster than anything he’d ever seen, and danced corkscrews and flips under the water and out of it, often pushing himself faster and faster until he needed a break.

“Energetic little guy.” Jean commented around sunset. The last snacks eaten from Jean’s pack. Isabella lounging against him, a contented hum vibrating her lips as her eyes blinked drowsily shut leaning on the human.

Yuri was determined to stay awake, it seemed. But had eventually dozed off on Otabek’s shoulder, his arms lying uselessly between his fin and Otabek’s thigh.

Otabek and Jean were quite tired as well. Otabek sore in places he never knew he could be, and ready to sleep on the nearest somewhat soft surface.

“Let’s wake these two and get back. We need dinner. And bed.”

Otabek nodded. Hesitantly he squeezed Yuri’s wrist. He repeated the gentle action until green eyes flickered open and leveled him with an unimpressed, sleepy, glare.

“I need sleep, Yuri.”

The Mer blinked at him, sitting up and tilting his head.

Right. Mer didn’t speak like humans. Feeling utterly ridiculous he closed his eyes and mimed the deep breathing of sleep. Confused, Yuri poked him a few times before keening in understanding. He pressed his forehead to Otabek’s shoulder in farewell, and slipped into the water, followed closely by Isabella.

As Otabek and Jean trudged back across the island, Otabek found he couldn’t keep the smile off his weary face.

It seemed like Otabek had only been on the island for a few days when Phichit joined them.

“We’re making port here for your last two days, then you’re sailing on to Italy with us!” He’d explained, happy to be by his crew mates.  “Any better with the swimming thing?”

Jean snorted “Yuri’s so attached he had to learn. Or he’d be somewhere in the buried treasure region.”

When Phichit asked for clarification, Jean just told him to wait, while Otabek dealt with the burning in his face.

The next day was an adventure, everybody had joined them in the grotto. Otabek wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. It was clearly a place they all enjoyed, but he’d gotten used to it just being the four of them. That didn’t stop him from cracking a smile when Phichit tried to teach Yuuri to throw dice. The Mer’s tri-jointed fingers were meant for gripping and tearing, squeezing, not for making a fist to shake. Viktor popped up to lean on his mate with some frequency, but was mostly content to swim lazy circles around his pod and watch unnervingly from the sidelines. On a few occasions he was dragged into high energy games, usually by Isabella. But Sara Crispino, who was returning home aboard the Pirit, put her best foot forward and was handily, and unsurprisingly, bested. She laughed brightly as the Mer towed her back. Despite her miserable and expected loss, Viktor seemed very fond of her for trying. In contrast, he watched Otabek like a hawk. Even Yuri was a bit cowed when he got a bit too close. He made no such protective movements toward Isabella or Jean, only Otabek and Yuri. And Otabek was unsure of how he felt about it.

Yuri and he, by this point, were at the very least friends. Under Yuri’s careful watch they’d taken to swimming together in the deeper portions of the grotto. Never past sunset or late afternoon, however, as around that time Viktor would appear as if by magic and chatter a the younger Mer until he growled, and took Otabek back.

And so on the night before his departure Otabek was sitting on the rocks,  wondering how well Yuri understood his leaving. Isabella had seemed to register Jean’s farewell, and had pressed her mouth to his cheek in a rough approximation of a kiss, and had sank slowly with a very human expression when he’d kissed hers. Ostensibly, Yuri knew Otabek would be back. Perhaps Isabella had told him, perhaps he understood, but either way, he felt guilty.

He gestured to himself, then far away. Yuri looked displeased, but that could be anything from complete incomprehension, a dislike of him leaving, or the feeling he was being treated like a child. Otabek shrugged.

“Well, I tried.”

Yuri tilted his head and brought up one shaky hand to touch his own cheek, making a hesitant chirping noise.

Blushing a bit, he leaned in and pressed his mouth against the cool cheek as water lapped at his ankles in the dark.

Yuri made what sounded like a sub vocal screech for several seconds before hesitantly returning the gesture.

Yuri sighed. When he turned green eyes on Otabek he simply stared for a few minutes, before lifting one hand and jerking it in a parody of a wave. Otabek caught the hand on impulse and kissed the knuckles as Yuri looked on in fascination.  Deciding impulse worked well for them he took the hand in his grip and slowly bent all the fingers into a loose fist, barring the thumb, and raised the hand up.

Yuri released the gesture, before slowly making it on his own and holding his hand up with a look of confusion on his face.

Otabek smiled and made it back. When he looked back to the grotto on his way back to the lodge, he could still see Yuri making and unmaking the gesture by moonlight.

 

__-Six Years Later-_ _

As Otabek sank beneath the waves he noticed a familiar shape diving down toward him, eyes stinging and blurry, but he never forgot that shape. He reached up with one hand, accepting the clawed appendage that firmly gripped his wrist, and felt himself surge upwards.

He emerged sputtering and laughing as the Mer keened in irritation.

“You aren’t the only one who gets to play pranks, Yura.” Otabek murmured, face buried in wet blonde hair that seemed to wrap about his arm as well during their rough ascent. He pressed his lips softly to the Mer’s head and felt the creature’s entire body vibrate with a deep, content purr.

“Otabek! Let your lover be, we have three hundred pounds of textile to get to my company!” Sara cried, hands held around her mouth to amplify the sound.

Holding one hand up, and still gently kicking his legs to stay afloat he gave her a thumbs up, and leaned back to kick toward the boat.

Yuri gave a displeased chirrup and followed, pinning Otabek to the side of the Pirit and nuzzling into his chest.

Otabek brushed his mouth over the Mer’s and grabbed the rope ladder. Shrugging him off and poking the lean Mer about the ribs, resulting in a crazed noise somewhere between a keen and a snarl. Otabek wasn’t sure he was glad he knew the Mer was ticklish, but it sure came in handy.

“Back in three, Yura.” He murmured, holding up three fingers.

Yuri nodded and dove below the ship once more.

As Otabek climbed he looked down to keep his footing. Viktor looked up at him from a few feet below the water. His second eyelid making blue eyes cloudy.

Assuming this was either approval, or a threat, Otabek gave him a thumbs up too. The silver Mer blinked, nodded, and drifted away.

Otabek wasn’t entirely sure what that was about.

As was their tradition, as Otabek sailed away, he held a thumbs up out to Yuri, sitting a ways away. And as usual Yuri returned the thumbs up with his own. And Otabek resigned himself to wondering on his strange encounter with the Mer’s possible father figure. Was Viktor his father in law? It seemed that way for Jean, currently camped out on the island until their return.

But there were no interruptions during he and Yura’s swim three days later. And they stayed out until it became so dark Yuri had to tow him back to shore.

Otabek Altin loved sailing, he loved the sea, he loved his friends, legged and finned, and he loved Yuri, who defied categorization.

He supposed this was victory.


End file.
